Page 65 of Six Month Wife

I grabmy stethoscope and head down to the parking lot, where tents are already going up like someone cast a spell. Tables are loaded with coolers, clipboards, hospital swag, and enough snack bars to fuel a marathon.

“Morning, Dr. Matthews,” one of the nurses calls out as she drops a box of gloves off at the Blood Mobile.

“Hey, Robin,” I nod. “Thanks for helping with the setup.”

She grins. “You bribed me with matching t-shirts and smoothie vouchers. I’m weak.”

I laugh, stepping over a coil of extension cords. “Wait till you see what I roped Adair into.”

Her brows lift. “Ooh. She’s volunteering?”

“Let’s call it a surprise guest appearance,” I say, nodding toward the tent near the smoothie truck, the best foot traffic spot on-site. The folding table I reserved for Citrine is already set up with boxes of lotions, hair products, and fresh juices, waiting for Adair’s signature display.

Another nurse calls out from across the lot. “This is the wellness booth you mentioned?”

“It’s the one,” I say, picturing Adair’s expression. “Figured it’d be good exposure for her product line. I pulled a few strings and got her the prime location, tons of community crossover.”

“You’re cutting it close, Matthews.”

“Me? Never,” I grin, jogging up. “Have you seen the crowd yet?”

She scans the lot. “It’s filling up fast. You think your wife’s gonna thank you for tossing her into this blind?”

The fact that I'm getting more accustomed to calling her and others referring to her as my wife is both alarming and comforting.

I shrug. “Nope. She hates surprises. But she’ll be smiling by the end of it.”

She leans in, lowering her voice. “By the way, that receptionist your dad was flirting with last week asked about him again.”

I groan. “Linda, you have to keep her away from him. Seriously. He’s a dirty old man. You can tell her I said that.”

Linda laughs, a deep, hearty sound that echoes through the hallway. “Your dad’s a looker. What can I say? But don’t worry, I told her he’s off-limits.”

“Good,” I say, straightening up. “The last thing we need is Leeland wreaking havoc in Palm Beach.”

As I make my way around the lot, I catch sight of Adair’s car pulling in. Even from a distance, she stands out. Her energy is vibrant against the backdrop of tents and bustling volunteers.

She steps out of her car, and my heart does this ridiculous flip. She’s wearing a simple sundress, her hair pulled back into a ponytail, and she looks... radiant.

I don’t even think about it. Before I know it, I’m walking toward her, and when we meet in the middle, Ilean in and kiss her. It’s meant to be quick, casual, but the warmth of her lips lingers longer than I intend.

When I pull back, she’s staring at me like I’ve grown a second head.

“You trying to win an Oscar for Best Public Display?” She laughs, but her eyes are wide like I flash-mob proposed. "Is that what this was? Is the estate guy here or something?"

From behind us, I hear a chorus of laughter and teasing whistles from the nearby nursing staff.

“Dr. Matthews, you're making the rest of us jealous,” Linda calls out, grinning like she lives for this kind of gossip.

“The nurses love to give me a hard time,” I say to Adair, keeping my arm around her as we walk. The snickering ahead of us gets louder. "No, he's not. I was excited to show you something. Sorry, I got carried away."

She gives me a side-eye and a smirk. “I guess I can suffer through your kisses,” she teases. “But next time, maybe warn me before you ambush me in front of your coworkers?”

“Can't make any promises, but I'll work on it.”

She rolls her eyes, full drama, but her smile gives her away that she's not mad about it.

“I completely forgot this was your big carnival-slash-blood-drive day,” she says, scanning the tents ahead. “So what was the rush to get me here? Need some extra O+ blood?”